


Creases in the Rain

by Sparklesthedark



Category: Sense8 (TV)
Genre: F/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-17
Updated: 2015-06-17
Packaged: 2018-04-04 18:53:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4149060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sparklesthedark/pseuds/Sparklesthedark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Weeks after the events in the season finale, Kala and Wolfgang have a discussion about their desires.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Creases in the Rain

**Author's Note:**

> Never written Sense8 before, as it is brand new, but I've got the writing itch since I finished it this morning, particularly with the unfinished business of Kala and Wolfgang. Enjoy! 
> 
> P.S. The title is from Arctic Monkeys' "Suck it and See."

It was weeks after the events in the mansion before they saw each other again.  He was in a hotel room in some slum, hiding out before someone came and arrested him or killed him or both.  Thunder was rumbling overhead as the nearby storm quickly approached.

Kala contained her surprise when she appeared.  She did not give herself away, and instead took the opportunity as a chance to do what they had been avoiding for weeks: talking.  Then he looked behind his shoulder and saw her.

Before she could give him a chance to stop her, she straddled his lap, her thighs settling somewhat uncomfortably on either side of him.  His blue eyes met hers, a surprised and familiar look crossing his features.  She knew automatically what he was going to say.

“Don’t.”

A deep sigh escaped her, and she stared him down, shimmying her way into his lap.  He wasn’t fighting that. Probably didn’t want to.  Her recently-painted fingers rested against his chest, drawing a breath from him.

“I am so fucking sick of you saying that,” she cried.  “I want you.”  Because she did.  Not because he was an escape from her marriage.  Not because of any other reason than this _pull_.

“No you don’t,” he told her.  Just like always.  Every single time.  Because he thought he was saving her, being noble, or some kind of medieval bullshit that Kala will _never_ believe.

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen you,” she whispered, her voice sultry.  Her eyes don’t leave his.  It was a gaze filled with lust and power and uncertainty and something she didn’t have a name for but wished she did.  “I’ve tried to not think about it.  I’ve tried everything.  And I keep coming back to you.  It’s always you.”

He didn’t say anything.  Looked away from her, to the floor, where he can avoid her.  Even when there is no space between them, he denied it.  Kala took his face in her hands.  Soft, brown skin met with ice-cold marble, and she felt a stab-like sensation at the sadness she saw in his eyes.

“I know you feel this too,” she whispered.  His hand pulled her away, not off of him completely, but enough to obstruct her goal: his lips.  “You might have self-control, but I don’t care.  I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anybody and if you try to tell me that’s not true then you are lying to yourself.”

She breaks his hand from her shoulder, holds it closely.  Presses her lips to it.

“Please stop hurting me.  I can’t keep being pushed away from you when you’re drawing me in.  This connection we have—it only brings us closer.”

He stared at her, shakes his head.  Couldn’t say anything because he can’t argue with her, knew she was right.   She puts her head on his shoulder, breathes him in.  His breathing thrums her heart, beats her soul, keeps her alive.  She has never known another person to be so vital to her.

Hesitantly, she put her mouth to the side of his neck.  He took in a sharp breath, and she pressed harder against him, felt his hands coming to rest on her back.  He breathed her name as a warning to stop, like always.

“Don’t go there,” he hissed.  But there was a breath there.  And she could share his emotions.  Wolfgang presented a stolid expression, but inside, she could feel the lust, the want, the other emotions bubbling up.  She could also feel his heart hamming in his chest and how hard he was beneath her.

“Kala,” he whispered.  A prayer.

She ignores him.

Her tongue flicked out against his skin, slowly placing open-mouth kisses where his shoulder met his neck.  He breathed out to stop, her name is somewhere in there too, and it’s breathless and sexy and she’s turned on as _fuck_.

She knew this feeling from drawing upon the others in the cluster.  She felt it when from Nomi and Lito, and now even Riley and Will.  Briefly, she worried that they could sense this happening, but then she decided she did not care.

She trailed up to the base of his ear, felt his heartbeat echoing.  His hands rested against her back, and she paused for half a second.  He almost pulled away, but she saw the moment when he titled his head to the side to give her better access.

And she nipped at his earlobe, draws him in, and breathes sharply.  “I _knew_ it.”

And he gave in.  He pulled her closer, and she felt the heat between their legs.  She pushed down and he pulled up, and he groaned and she gave a short laugh.  Her name left his lips again, breathless and full of want.

And then her face aligned with his and their breathing seemed labored and she opened her eyes to see his, staring back at her.

“Kiss me,” she whispered.

He doesn’t hesitate this time, pulled the base of her head toward his to meet their lips, crashed their tongues together.  She moaned, a loud obnoxious sound, but she’s waited so long to feel this unbridled passion that she can’t give a damn about being noisy.

They kissed for a long time.  Re-angling their faces, pushing and pulling away.  His arms tightened around her; his hands eventually snake downward to cup her ass.  The moment he does, she breaks their kiss, and looks away, still reeling at the thought of him touching her.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, bringing his hands back between them, placing each one on her chest.  He thumbs over where her nipples are through the fabric of her sweater.  She has one hand on either side of his face, touching and whispering and _feeling_.

“God,” she sighed, her head hanging back, as he kisses her neck.  It’s so much better than she could have dreamed of.  And she said that out loud.  Or maybe not.  They are so connected that she can’t distinguish shared information versus guarded thoughts.

“You dream about this?” he asked, his lips brushing the base of her jaw.

“Ah—” she cut herself off when he sucks hardly at the flesh of her collarbone.  She could feel his smirk.  “I dream about this all the time,” she paused and touched his face.  “God, I want you so bad.”

“I know,” he smiled haughtily.  And then they stood, and he had her pressed against the wall, her hands locked with his against either side of her head.  His lips are close enough that she tasted his breath, but her breathing is too heavy to kiss, and that doesn’t seem to be his intention anyway.

“Like this?” he breathed against her neck, pushing his knee between her legs.  And she just nods because she can’t say anything.  “You want me to touch you?” he asked, enjoying her flushed expression.

“Yes!” she practically cried out as he runs his hands under her shirt, touching her belly and breasts, cupping them through her bra.  It’s too much and he knew it and he was trying to kill her.  She arched into his hands, moaned when he kisses her neck roughly.

“Jesus,” he breathes between kisses.  And she can feel it.  How this is so _right_.

Her legs wrap around his waist, and he presses her harder into the wall, and she felt him in that spot where she wants him most, and it makes her dizzy.  He felt her emotion, felt her _need_ for him overcoming both of them.  The thing about having sex with someone in the cluster was you both felt what the other was feeling.  Then he gets it.

Despite her obvious love for the world and his emotional need to rebel discreetly, neither of them had considered collaboration in their undermining talents when the rest of the world was concerned.  It was not as if they were inseparable—although the cluster would definitely consider them close.  Quintessentially, their personalities conflicted in parts of a web that also had them woven together tighter than ever.

And now he had her against a wall in a hotel room, wanting more, needing more.

Overhead, thunder rumbled, echoed, and he grabbed her – lifted her clean off the floor – and hauled her across the room, pushing past the dresser. He left his phone sitting on top, forgotten and useless in the dark of the cramped space.

She settled on the bed—which, really, was more of a cot-- pulling him down on top of her, and through the old window, lightning issued through the dark room. She was lit in the strobe light, her body deliciously outlined – her blouse lay on the floor, and he had no idea when it had come off, and he could see her panties when he looked up her skirt, the pale pink cotton winking at him as the light was cut off.

It blinked again outside, then a third time, and he pressed his lips into hers, tasting her mouth, tracing his tongue along the ridge of her lower teeth, the storm above them forgotten, the night before forgotten, the whole world crashing down around them forgotten.

Her hands deftly slid his shirt up his chest, and he lifted his lips from hers, sat up long enough for her to pull it over his head, cast it off onto the floor. Between the strobe effect of the lightning through the window and the haze that lingered in his brain, the faint grey light coming through the window between bursts of lightning, and the way her mouth felt on his, he didn't know if he was coming or going.

He tangled his hands in her beautiful hair, the curly strands weaving themselves between his fingers. She kissed him back, the sound of rain falling outside punctuating the movements of her body against his, the way her legs wrapped around his. Her body seemed to pulse against his, teasing him, making him want to do things he'd never yearned to do before.

She gasped against the top of his head as he moved his lips down her bare chest, her breath making his forehead hot under the matted strands there. He slipped his hands around towards her back, his fingers memorizing the softness of the skin at her waist, and unhooked her bra. It came off easily, the black lace making her skin look pale and delicate as a butterfly's wings.

Her skirt slid off next, his thumbs hooked in the waistband, his fingers tracing her legs, over her knees and down her calves to her ankles, where she kicked it off. Even as he tried to get his mind around getting her panties off, he felt her hands expertly navigating his belt buckle, the button, the zipper. As she forced him to sit up some to get his jeans off, he glanced down at her panties, the peach silk taunting him.

He knew what he wanted, wondered if she would let him go for it, or if she would freak out. Wondered if she would be disgusted.  Did she even know what this was?

Whatever, she was inexperienced and wouldn’t know.

Maybe she would like it anyway.

He took the sides of her panties firmly in his hands and began to slide them down her legs, tickling her skin with the pads of his fingers as he went. She lifted her hips to help him, most likely not realizing how close his face was, the way she taunted him, the ocean of her skin teasing him.

He lowered his lips to her sex, took in her smell, that sweetness like spring rain. When he opened his lips, spreading them over her, he felt more than heard her gasp, lifted his head slightly to avoid getting hit in the face when she bucked her hips up.

Her eyes met his, wide and faintly frantic, but she must have seen something in the seriousness of his face that calmed her, or at least placated her temporarily. She lay back down, her lower back tense against his palms, and he began lapping at her tentatively.

He nuzzled his nose into her folds, sucking in her scent, savoring the way she moved against him, the soft skin on her thighs delicate against the roughness of his unshaven face as she hitched in her breath, clearly shocked at what he was doing.

Reached his tongue out, traced it along her skin, felt her shudder around him.

 Her thighs flexed, but he could feel her back loosen, bit by bit, and before long, as he brought a hand up to slide his fingers inside her, she was leaning into him, her hesitation at this new thing forgotten. He looked up as he slid the first finger into her, his face damp and the scent of her lingering in his nose, watched the way her chin bobbed as she leaned back, the way her mouth opened, gasping silently when he put his lips back on her.

When she finished, it surprised even him – the sudden spasm, the way she pushed into him hard, one of her hands finding its way to the back of his head and forcing him harder into her, her fingers tangled in his hair. She tasted sweeter suddenly, and only for a moment, and then her grip released, her kicking stopped.

Her body suddenly calm, he lifted his head.

She lay supine, still lit by occasional flashes of lightning, as sexy as any woman he had ever seen, and he wanted her then, but didn't know if she was ready. Instead he grabbed a tissue from the nightstand, wiped his face, settled back against her, the waistband of his boxers cutting into his skin as he tried not to fall off the slim bed. Wrapped his arm around her shoulders as she cuddled up to his chest.

After some time, she tilted her head up, met his eyes. Her lashes lazily blinked at him, and in that moment, with her curled around his body and the world suddenly still outside, he thought for the first time: _I am happy_.

"Wolfgang," she said in that sultry voice. "That was _really_ dirty."

And, goddammit, he kissed her on her damp forehead and murmured, "I know."

"You’re the only…" she stopped, and he knew she was suddenly afraid she was about to say too much, even as her hand paused around his chest. He sighed, prodding her into speaking. "No one else can do that."

And he understood as he curled around her, her breathing slowing to match his.

“I know,” he whispered against her neck.  He closed his eyes, feeling the glow of emotion surround them.  Kala sighed contentedly into the dark room, shifting in his arms.

The lightning flickered again through the room, but the thunder that followed was rolling far away as they drifted to sleep.


End file.
